


Con Permiso

by Saucery



Series: Space Husbands [4]
Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Aliens, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Future, Ficlet, Humor, Interspecies, M/M, Omnipotence, Romance, Romantic Comedy, Science Fiction, Sexual Humor, Snark, Superpowers, Surreal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-29
Updated: 2013-01-29
Packaged: 2017-11-27 11:40:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/661590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saucery/pseuds/Saucery
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles is a member of the Q Continuum. Derek is his surly space captain.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Con Permiso

**Author's Note:**

> "Con permiso, Capitan." - Q, _Star Trek: The Next Generation_.

* * *

 

When approximately two kilotons of refined duridium vanish from the ship’s cargo deck without so much as a by-your-leave, it doesn’t take a genius to figure out who’s responsible.

“Stiles,” says Captain Derek Hale, hero of the First Resistance, massaging his forehead. “Put them back, please.”

“But you stood me up on our date,” Stiles pouts, popping into existence floating above the captain’s chair.

“Get down here,” says Derek, and rapidly revises that to a hissed, “ _not on your knees_ ,” when Stiles re-pops into existence at Derek’s feet, his mouth dangerously close to Derek’s crotch.

“You’re so boring,” Stiles scowls, and replicates another captain’s chair to sit on, except that this one has wheels, which he immediately takes to zooming around the bridge on. “Boring, boring, boring. Who turns down free oral sex?”

The rest of the crew winces, not wanting to hear such intimate details of their captain’s private life. Ensign Lahey has gone the exact same shade of red as a red giant.

“We never. Had. A date,” Derek enunciates, clearly. “Now get off my bridge.”

“I’d rather just get off. Are you, heh, up for it?”

“ _Stiles_ ,” growls Derek, warningly.

“I’m an omniscient, omnipresent, omnipotent being,” Stiles says, finally, in some peculiar combination of disappointment and arrogance. “On par with your Christian god. Thus, I know that a) you want me, because I’ve seen the inside of your head, b) you jerk off to me, because I’ve been inside your shower, and c) I can make it happen, because, hey, omnipotence. What’s your  _problem_?”

“My problem is your utter lack of personal space,” Derek snaps, knowing the moment he says it that it’s hypocritical, given the (he’s been told) intrusively watchful eye he keeps on his own crew.

“Is that all?”

“And your attitude.”

“And?”

“ _You_. Get out. My crew is trying to work. If you must discuss this, do it - ”

“In your quarters! I’m there already,” Stiles says, and doesn’t vanish.

“In. My. Quarters,” Derek elucidates.

“I can totally be in two places at the same time. Or  _all_  places at the same time. You humans and your piddly ideas about spacetime. It’s like wet tissue-paper, you know. You can fold it and make it stick to itself and punch holes right through it, if you want.”

“And what happens to the rest of the universe?”

“Univer _ses_ , plural, you mean? Nothing much. They die, some of ’em. But don’t worry! I can bring them back to life, again. I can do anything.  _Anything_. How is that not a turn-on?”

“Perhaps it’s terrifying.”

“Not to  _you_ , my brave captain. O captain, my captain.”

Derek feels a headache coming on. “You’ve been reading Earth poetry again.”

“Correction. I’ve been to Earth in what you call the 1800s and have enjoyed a perfectly marvelous brunch with Walt Whitman.”

“Isn’t he better than I am?” Derek asks, rather desperately. “Why not pester him?”

“Because he’s not  _you_ , silly. He doesn’t make me want to abuse my powers in order to get into his pants.”

“Get. Out.”

“Or get him out of his pants,” Stiles cheerfully agrees, then snickers when Derek snarls and rises from his seat. “Relax, relax. And hold that thought. Since you want to choke me so bad, we can do that later. In your quarters, right? Adios!”

And so saying, Stiles is gone. Possibly off to medieval England, for all Derek knows.

The duridium is back in the cargo deck, at three times the quantity than it had been, before. Derek doesn’t want to know who Stiles stole the rest of it from, or whether he just conjured it out of thin air. Either way, Derek takes it for the apology it is, and tells Chief Engineer Martin that her ‘precious babies’ (as she calls the piles of duridium) are back.

The crew collectively breathes a sigh of relief, and gets back to work.

 

* * *

**fin.**

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Only Human](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10433541) by [Jenetica](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jenetica/pseuds/Jenetica)




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